Red Between The Lies
by FlatPanda
Summary: Grell is finally noticed by the shinigami dispatch association for doing something right. But his talents earn him a reward worse than any demotion or probation he's ever faced. William struggles to hold onto his oldest friend. Will he realize he's grasping at more than friendship before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

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Division Supervisor and Head Manager for the London Branch of the Shinigami Dispatch Association, Mr. William T. Spears stared up at the glaring white blur of the ceiling above him. He was flat on his back and without his much needed and very important glasses. The dim florescent light fixture seemed to take the reassuring rectangular shape of the ones found in his very own branch building, and those greyish smudges were definitely the outlines of the ceiling tiles hung only in the medical bay.

He swallowed dryly against the pounding in his head and became aware that he was only clothed in the drafty white cotton hospital gown afforded to patients on the rare occasion a working reaper would need to become a guest of the infirmary. His hand resting over his stomach could feel the ridges of bandages through the thin fabric. Pale and slightly gaunt in countenance with uncombed raven hair falling in his eyes, William still held his usual serious and business like demeanor in place as he listened intently for any sounds nearby that could tell him the hour or the day.

Testing a shaky breath he found it still came with a sharp pain spiking in his gut and his long fingers twisted in the light blue sheet draped over him. He decided not to breath again unless someone came by he needed to speak to. The effort of turning his foggy head didn't show him any signs of that happening any time soon. From the indistinct blurs around him he could tell he'd been placed in a private recovery room with the blinds drawn and the door firmly closed.

For a moment William stared hard at the round copper smudge that simply had to be the door handle. Some part of him expected it to turn. Expected it to be thrown open with a slam and the usual peal of off key giggling and sing song call of his name, or rather an annoyingly childish variant of his name along with ridiculous terms of endearment and professions of true love and truer lust.

The seconds dragged on in silence. There was no noise, no flash of loud flamboyant red bursting in on him and bringing the rest of his usual daily after life with it. A slow and heavy feeling of dread settled in Williams stomach making the physical pain there dull in comparison.

Grell Sutcliff should be here by now.

He was starting to recall vague details about the previous evenings assignment, he had a good sense of what had happened after he had gone down. William knew he was the only one who had been injured with Grey Metal, his very own death scythe to be precise. It was one of the only things that could kill a reaper and it would leave him healing as slowly as an ordinary human from his wound with a permanent scar to remind him of his nearly fatal mistake.

Young Ronald Knox had been his partner on that particular mission. At the end of a double shift with overtime they had both been exhausted and looking forward to clocking out. It was just another late night death in a grimy back alley of Londons slums. Neither had been expecting demons. The Junior reaper had tried to put up a good defense after William had been taken by surprise and pinned to a wall by his own scythe. Thankfully Ronald had been knocked through a nearby building and stayed unconscious. Surely he was just fine by now. If William had made it back in his condition, Knox must have too.

Grell had been injured in the fight. It went without thinking, his style was simply too reckless and he seemed to enjoy taking a hit sometimes as much as giving one. Grell wasn't even supposed to be there but he had shown up just in time to see Ronald sent flying. William didn't even know what Grell had wanted... well, he probably did, it was the end of their shift after all and he'd been pestering William all week for a "romantic" dinner date.

William ran a heavy hand through his bangs and tried to think through the parts of the fight he had been able to see. The roar of Grells chainsaw had been instant. As soon as he arrived he'd jumped into the fray. He knew the redhead had taken far more damage than he had but it had been mundane in nature. Normal blows that began healing with a reapers preternatural regeneration abilities as soon as they were made. Combined with Grells high tolerance for pain he could and did keep fighting even with broken bones and ruptured organs. Once the scarlet spray of his enemies blood had caught the insane glint in his eye the red reaper was like a bull charging a cape and nothing could hold him back from the violence he craved.

William had a moment of shame wash over him, that he'd needed to be saved. On one hand it was embarrassing that it had been Grell who was a sorry excuse for a reaper on his best days, but on the other it was also good it was Grell because they were old friends who had trained at the academy together. The redhead would never hold it against him, it wasn't even the first time he'd saved him in a fight. It was strange in a way, that when things really mattered, when it was actually down to life and death, the most unreliable and unpredictable reaper he'd ever known was still Williams first choice to turn to and the only one he'd trust with his life. Grell had always been there.

So where was Grell now? And more importantly to William, how long had he been in the infirmary laid out like a limp herring while his department was left to run itself? He sucked in just enough air to let out a groan at the thought of all the paper work and chaos piling up without him. And Grell in the middle of it all causing even more trouble.

Suddenly William felt like closing his eyes and just going back to sleep.

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	2. Chapter 2

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"Tuesday August 6, 1889.

My beloved Will,

Don't you dare die on me or I swear on my scythe I'll have Undertaker bring you back as one of his bizarre dolls so I can murder you myself, fuck Sebas-chan over your grave, and tear your precious Library down brick by brick to build your cairn!

That being said you must hold on for me my dark and handsome knight! Your fair princess shall return to your side to nurse you back to health, as soon as these useless twats at HQ are done "re evaluating my status within the organization". I have the perfect outfit for the occasion too! If you're good I'll even wear my french lace stockings, the red ones with those little black tassels on the garters you like so much! I know I caught you staring last time, there's no need to hide your appreciation for the finer things in life my Darling. This Lady knows the value of discretion, all your most ardent desires are welcome and most safe with me!

Also, please do be kind to dear little Knoxie and the rest of our boys while I'm away. You really can be such a brute, though I love you all the more for it sweetheart, overtime is so tasteless and bad for moral!

With all the passion of my heart I wish you well!

Your dearest and sexiest friend always,

Miss Grell Sutcliff "

William read the note in his hand over for what could have been the fiftieth time since a nurse had brought it to him early that morning on the second day he'd been laid up in bed. It had come with a small arrangement of red and white striped flowers, sweet williams they were called. The little bouquet in it's cheap vase of rosey pink tinted glass was the only bit of colour in his otherwise empty recovery room. He had cringed when he recognized the flowers but had yet been thankful it wasn't a full on bouquet of red roses that would make others curious enough to read Grells note to him without his knowledge.

Grells handwriting was as neat and pristine as ever on the plain white dispatch stationary, bold looping calligraphy that he couldn't mistake for anyone elses. The rare reports that the flamboyant field agent ever completed were always done in the same perfect style, almost a work of art compared to Williams own nearly indecipherable chicken scratch. William preferred the type writer. It was clearer, more precise, no mistakes or misunderstandings could be made when each letter was plainly and mechanically stamped upon the paper.

And yet there was no mistaking how much more William valued this little scrap of paper. The odd feeling of comfort it gave him no mechanically produced copy could have duplicated. Scented with rosewater and some deeper exotic spice and conveying every bit of his colleagues personality it was the one bit of proof he needed that the world really was still out there beyond his recovery room door and that things would go on as normal. People out there were looking forward to seeing him back on his feet. People needed him. He had a reason to get back up and get out there.

Grell Sutcliff needed him.

If anyone had ever told William that it would affect him so much to be without Grell for even the two days he had been awake and confined to his sick bed he would have outright called them a lunatic. But now the "restful quiet" was more grating than restful and knowing that Grell was likely facing another disciplinary hearing without any representation or anyone there to put in a good word for him was making William terribly anxious.

Grell was a horrible employee. He broke rules on a daily basis. But over the years William had come to realize he wasn't just working with a prima donna who was all talk or a mad man who couldn't be controlled. Grell Sutcliff was good at exactly what they needed him to be good at. Over the years he had proved his rare triple As in practical technique he'd earned while at the academy were definitely not a fluke.

Grell had never once been late for a reap, never once come back without the soul he'd been sent to harvest. Occasionally come back with a few extra souls as well, and been too lazy or bored or distracted to actually fill out the paper work as to why, and once during the jack the ripper incident even been part of the reason for those unscheduled deaths and souls... But overall the department needed Grell and his talents desperately. They were always short on reapers in the territory of London with its ever swelling urban population. More and more demons were showing up by the day it seemed to prey upon the overabundance of human corruption and stake claim to devour the souls on the scheduled death list.

William did not hold any illusions. He knew with grim certainty that he would not be alive right now if Grell had not shown up to fight off those demons. Those cursed hell spawn were too quick to attack a pair of working reapers to make him think they would have simply been happy to devour the human souls they'd been carrying and leave.

Someone needed to get a proper report in to HQ to make sure they understood what part Grell had played. How he wasn't at fault this time. How he was...

William himself wasn't actually sure he could use the word without an eyebrow twitch, but Grell was a "Hero". He deserved commendation for his fast action and bravery, vicious homicidal blood thirsty sadism that it was, but still bravery non the less that saved the lives of two of his colleagues and a large number of human souls as well.

There was nothing for it now. William carefully folded the note and put it in the front pocket of his navy blue dressing robe. He adjusted his square black framed glasses and took a determined breath before swinging his legs out over the side of the hospital bed. For a moment he fought back a wave of nausea and weakness, one arm wrapping around his middle where the bandages still lay bound across his slowly healing scythe wound. Stubbornly he pushed himself to his feet and made the first few shuffling steps towards the door.

He was getting up and getting out of here dam it! No matter what the doctors had said he couldn't stand looking at these plain white walls a second longer. He was a Dispatch Manager and he had a good friend and desperately needed employee to save from being sacked!

He'd nearly made it to the door when it was actually opened inward on him suddenly and he ended up loosing his balance and falling backwards down on his rear.

"Ah, Chief! Oh my gosh! What are you doin outa bed! Sir, are you ok?"

William looked up with an unimpressed glare that could have iced over the Sahara. There in the doorway already lazily scratching the back of his two toned blond and brown dyed head of hair was Ronald Knox. He was decked out in all his usual playboy charm with a good natured grin and laid back fashions. William was closer to the dress code violation of his glaring white oxfords than he had ever been while the younger reaper seemed not to know what to do about staring down owlishly at his Manager on the floor.

"Don't just stand there grinning like a fool, help me up Mr. Knox."

William snapped in his usual tone, ordering instead of asking. The junior reaper jumped in place and rushed to obey.

"Sorry, sorry Sir! They didn't tell me you were up. The nurses all said you'd got grey metal poisoning and that hit you took was pretty bad too."

Ronald gingerly helped his boss up and back to sit on the edge of the bed. He was actually rather afraid to touch him thinking he might cause him pain, and also because William T. Spears was not the sort of person you touched except when he offered you a firm and business like handshake.

"I'm much better today."

William told him bluntly, even though it was mostly a lie. He was hoping that if he couldn't get out of here himself he at least could use Ronald as his errand boy until he could. It was good timing however embarrassing his weakness was to be seen.

"What is it you need Mr. Knox?"

He asked evenly, he could see the younger reaper was fidgeting so there must be something to this visit other than to drop off flowers or cards. He'd only had a sparse few of those to begin with.

"Ah! Yeah, I was coming to see if you could sign my report about the other night. I've got as much as I can recall written down and I need you to verify it as my senior partner on the job. They've been asking for it, Blackstone and Talbot came round from HQ first thing this morning. They've got Peters from Wessex county standing in for you right now and he gave me the day off to get on it. I think it's something important to do with Boss Sutcliff, but I could be wrong?"

William took a breath, still having pain from doing so, before he held out his hand for the paperwork. He needed to know how long he had before any sort of trial got going.

"Very well. Let me look it over... Do you know when Mr. Sutcliff was asked to report to the main branch?"

"He wasn't asked Sir. When he brought you in he refused to leave your side. He gave one of the orderlies a right good shiner before they dragged him out and sedated him. They shipped him out while he was still unconscious, I'm not even sure if they patched him up first or not. That was the last I saw of him and I was still kinda hazy at that point. It took me most of yesterday before I could walk straight cause my head got bashed in so bad."

Ronald gave the side of his head a tap with his fist. He was good as new now, but the nurses and girls from General affairs had been fawning over him all yesterday while he still wore his bandage. He wondered secretly if his tall dark and handsome supervisor had his own nurse to comfort him while he was ill.

William frowned as he skimmed the details of the report. He frowned even more as Ronald told him of Grells fate. That was definitely not good. Not good at all. It meant someone here had been watching and waiting for Grell to make another serious mistake and haul him back to the detention center at headquarters.

"Aside from the usual grammar and spelling mistakes, it seems you have everything in order..."

William said dryly as he flipped to the last page. He tapped the sheet of paper with his finger, not having a pen yet to fix it with himself.

"I think this is a mistake here, you meant to put "four hostile demons" in section eight B for the type and number of impediment to soul collection."

"Huh? Oh, no Sir. That's supposed to be a one there. I mean, we only saw the demoness with the horns when we first got there and then the other three showed up outa nowhere after she got you so I couldn't get over to you, but that's the right number the cleanup crew gave me... more or less. The way Boss Sutcliffs chainsaw chews things up it was a bit hard for them to tell but they gave me a count of fourteen at the least. We walked right in on top of a whole nest of the blighters and didn't even know it till they were on us!"

Ronald adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through his bangs. He was having a hard time smiling at the thought, his usual laid back grin came off as more of a grimace when he recalled some of the scene from that demon infested alley way.

"He always said... I never really thought that expression he always uses, you know the one " I'll paint the walls red..." I went back there to see it, to get things right and sorted out for my report, and it really was. Mr. Spears Sir... it really was red, just everywhere... "

There was a plain chair against the wall beside the door and Ronald stepped back towards it and sat himself down with a bit of fumbling for the arm rest. He looked slightly lost for a moment and impossibly young like a shell shocked new recruit fresh from the academy who had just seen his first demon. He wanted to doubt that it had really happened and deny the danger they had been in and what the red reaper was actually capable of when he was being serious for once.

"How badly was he hurt, do you know?"

Williams eyes had strayed towards the small arrangement of flowers and the words had come without thought from his lips.

Fourteen demons, that was... William didn't even know if he should be glad Grell had done so well and gotten them out of there alive or if he should be terribly scared for what kind of monster his old friend truly was beneath those false eyelashes and lacy women's under things.

"I, no Sir. I guess I don't. He was limping pretty bad when he carried you in here though, barely on his feet himself I'd say. I was half leaning on him too."

Ronald hung his head a little more. He knew he should have done something more in that fight, not been so useless. Grell shouldn't have had to face all that alone, was it Ronalds fault he had been hauled away even while he'd been injured too? Was there something he could have done to stop it if he hadn't been so slow and weak and all around stupid as to get thrown through a building right off?

"We're both very fortunate we work with such a gifted ... genius."

William said. The word "murderer" would have been more expected. It was the most charitable thing he'd ever said about Grell in front of anyone. But he needed to say something to put Ronald at ease.

"A genius, Sir?"

Ronalds head snapped up and he blinked at his superior. He couldn't have heard that right, especially not coming from William.

"He's always had a true gift for death after all. It is his calling, his "art" I suppose he'd say. Most of us here have other skills that keep the organization running smoothly. You won't meet many reapers who specialize like that. "

William sounded tired and he brought his legs up and laid back on the bed. But he was certainly not giving up the stubborn fight to stay conscious and useful. Ronald only nodded, a ghost of his former smile coming back since he recognized his supervisor was trying to help make some sense of this mess for him even while he was still ill.

"Do you have a pen so I can sign this? I'd also appreciate it if you can bring me the forms I need to file my own report, as well as some stationary. As soon as I get things filed and copies sent over to the main branch I have to get on the phone and find out why they're holding Grell this time and what he's supposed to have done. I am not loosing another worker when we're so understaffed and we've got demons popping up like daisies!"

Ronald sprang back up to his feet and gave a cavalier salute. His usual youthful cheer and enthusiasm coming back full force now that he had something to do and he'd been assured that William was still himself and everything was going to go back to normal.

"Right away Sir! We'll get Grell Sempai outa the clink in no time, don't you worry! And I'll tell Alan to move the sheep outa the canteen by the end of the day too!"

The junior reaper was already out the door before William could look up and question him. He put a palm over his face and groaned softly. Their break room was a barn and Grell was locked up in the detention center at HQ and Mr Peters from Wessex county who had probably never filled out management level paperwork in his afterlife was sitting at Williams desk. He just really did not want to know what else had gone wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

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"Will! William! Wake up! Please darling, please wake up!"

It was a familiar voice, the most familiar one in his afterlife and William turned blurry vision towards the outline of a brightly lit doorway where a mass of red seemed to be struggling to reach him. He thought of rising but found hands were holding him down to a hard surface and there were more blinding smudges of lights overhead being swung down into his eyes that made the white clad figures at his sides into looming silhouettes.

The pain in his gut was burning like a hot iron and an aching weakness spread through his veins so he couldn't raise his head. The scent of antiseptic was sharp and the taste of copper in his mouth from his own blood made him gag. All around there was the murmur of more indistinct voices, the sounds of feet shuffling and water running and metal instruments clanging lightly against a pan. Everything was becoming hazy and dark and though he fought it he was losing his grip on awareness.

Through the darkness Grell called to him again and the frantic tone to it, the raw fear, spiked through William making the world come back into too bright blurs and pain once more.

"You can't leave me! Will! Do you hear me! You can't leave me alone with forever! Red and death aren't enough and you dam well know it you bastard! "

His voice was rising for one last shriek before he was finally wrenched from Williams blurred vision and the white glare of the room.

"Don't you dare die!"

The last echoing call came to him and the darkness finally fell around him. He let it come gratefully. It was an escape from the pain and also an escape from a heavier feeling that came with the pitch of Grells voice. There was something there that he just couldn't face.

It wasn't teasing or insanity, it wasn't everyday whining complaints or the rare worried concern. There had been a kind of desperation there that he could never associate with his friend.

Grell was never afraid of anything. His natural boldness and devil may care attitude is what prompted others to believe in his insanity so readily. He was perfectly fine and even gleeful facing some of the worst situations a reaper had to deal with. Why was the thought of loosing William so frightening to the red head? He had other friends surely. Some William suspected were even closer than he and Grell had been back in their academy days. Ronald was certainly one of them, he'd seen them going out to the pub together right after work, sometimes even sneaking there while on duty. He couldn't believe that Grell would be left completely on his own if he were to die.

Alone in the darkness William thought he knew what the answer was. But his mind turned away from it, twisted back into other memories.

Grell perching on his desk and helping him fix the tension on the spring of his death scythe blades, Grell leaning over him from behind to steal his pen as he finished paperwork and the rose and spice scent of his hair making a silky curtain around them, Grell removing his black leather gloves and lazily inspecting the perfect red shine of his nails on the ends of long delicate fingers…

The darkness was suddenly no longer dark but filled with that same deep colour of freshly spilled blood. William found himself standing in it, the sticky liquid lapping at the edges of his well polished shoes. He inhaled the thick copper scent and the musk of decaying roses and found it oddly comforting in this close space where the air was fleshy and soft as velvet and the half moon light came from nowhere at all.

"Will?..."

Grells voice was weak, a bare whisper calling against the red night. It made William turn instantly and what he saw made his stomach drop and his heart thunder fast against his ribs. He tried to remain unaffected as he walked the few steps over to his friend. Reapers could take a lot of damage and still heal, and Grell was always more than a little dramatic.

His friend lay prone with his head back, long scarlet hair disappearing into the liquid that surrounded him. Grells waistcoat and shirt were soaked dark and his usual red coat was gone. There were deep slashes through his thin chest and across one side of his throat and down his left shoulder. His left thigh also had rather gruesome tears across it. But none of that really bothered William. He had seen worse sights in his time, he'd once even set a bone in Grells forearm for him that had been sticking right out of his skin while the other reaper had been chattering on about some silly sale at a shoe store he was missing out on.

The one thing that truly horrified William as he came upon his friend like this and made him collapse to his knees in the pooling warmth of the blood beside Grell was the absolute lack of glasses. His most important glasses, the symbol of a working reaper, were gone.

"Will, are… you're alright?"

There was a rattling breath heaved to get the words out and bubbles of blood like summer berries oozing from Grells white lips as he spoke. His phosphorescent eyes were half open and glassy, not truly focused on William at all but still sensing his presence.

"I'm fine. You got me back to the infirmary in time."

Even in real life he'd probably never be able to force words of thanks and Grell would still somehow always understand and grin and they'd just go on as they always had. William knew very well this was a dream. He knew it even as he took up a limp cold hand to hold between his own. The thin snowy fingers were even colder than usual, somehow more chilled than death itself as the slow realization was dawning on William that this vision of Grell was dying.

"I know it's not in you to love me."

Grells eyes somehow found Williams then. Eyes that were greener than any other reapers he had known, ringed in the center with the hills of Ireland beneath a heavy spring rain. There was a soft and accepting expression on his face and the corners of his mouth curved into the most worn and tattered shadow of a smile William had ever seen. Even though this was surely a dream, desperately William hoped it was only a dream, he swallowed at the heavy tightness those blunt words slammed into him and he could do nothing but nod in mute agreement.

"I still want to be by your side. You're my forever, William. And nothing else will ever do. No matter what they take from me, my heart won't forget you."

William didn't have time to think on who "they" were or what was being lost. It was momentarily shocking and somehow more intimate that Grell had used his full name. In that moment Grells hand abruptly started to slip away from his grasp. The dying reaper was sinking into the red pool he lay in. His head tipped back further and his mouth opened in a silent pained cry, pointed teeth dripping with his own blood and more of it bubbled up from within his throat. His body arched in one final shudder of agony as erotic as any movement of passion.

William abandoned his now clutching hand and scrambled back at the sudden frothing in the cherry waters. He got to his feet and stood silently watching as the reaching white fingertips vanished and the last traces of long swirling hair on the surface rippled quietly and disappeared from sight.

Everything was red and silent. The soundless heartbeat of eternity throbbed on around him with a great hollow emptyness that pounded painfully within his own chest. It grew more and more unbearable with each passing second he stood alone.

Something seemed to break in William. He was standing here. Just standing here!

He fisted his hands and stomped and cursed, raging and kicking at the empty splashes of crimson around him in sudden anger at his own inaction. When Grell had been by his side for so many years and given so much to get him back safely he hadn't even been able to make the effort to call back. He hadn't said his name once in that too bright medical bay or tried to stretch out his hand for him. He couldn't pull him out of the red pool of his own despair by offering one kind word, he had let go of his hand so easily instead of lifting him into his arms where he deserved to be held.

And he knew it now. He stilled wide eyed and it hit him like a bolt of lightning. He felt it so deeply it had him shaking body and soul. Grell Sutcliff really was in love with him, had always been in love with him. As fiercely and passionately as anyone could ever love.

William shot up in his bed gripping the edge of the covers with white knuckles at the realization. For all his calmness even in dreams he was still drenched in sweat and shaking with weakness. It was in a way the most terrible nightmare he'd ever had in his life. He now saw what a complete and utter ass he had been for well over a century and how he'd been driving his best friend and one of the finest reapers he'd ever known to the edge of sanity and back on a daily basis.

All those times when he just didn't know what had gotten into Grell, or why he had been acting out. When he had to speak for him in front of enforcement officers and review boards and bail him out time after time. How awkward and strained their friendship always was with a distance kept between them that could so easily have been breached by simple camaraderie but never was, as if waiting for something more. How ladies sometimes gave him disapproving glares and gentlemen would laugh and wink at something he said about the red head, not aware of how it looked between them. What Grell surely dreamed of and wished for and tried so hard to make true despite the usual playful humor and teasing that veiled his attempts and saved his pride.

Calming himself down with deep breaths William ran a hand through his messy bangs to sweep them back into order. The image of Grell sinking away from him like a screaming blood soaked cameo still seared into his mind.

He felt like a complete and utter fool. He'd had his most important glasses on the entire time and still ended up blind. While he had been focusing on his career and working hard, the same things came so effortlessly to Grell that all he'd had to focus on was William. The gifted red head could have made it to senior management by now if he'd tried, but he obviously didn't want to try. He wanted William. That was all there was to it.

And William was an idiot.

If there had been a desk or a wall within his reach he'd be banging his already throbbing head against it by now.

"Hi ya Chief! ….Hey… you want I should get you a nurse? You don't look too good…"

The sound of Ronalds voice made William start and he automatically reached for his glasses and stared over at him in the doorway. Then he seemed to register what he'd been asked.

"No. No, just a headache. Comes and goes."

He ground out at the cheerful blond who was now peering at him with concern. It was the morning of his third day in bed and William was running out of patience quickly for not being able to do any work himself. Almost all his attempts from the day before had been blocked by nurses and doctors who led him back to bed and stole away his papers and pens "for the good of his health." A sweet yet loathsome phrase that had become his curse.

"Did you have something for me Mr. Knox?"

His tone was a sharp order but there was an expectant light in his eyes, almost a hunger, for any scrap of work the junior officer might have brought.

"Huh? Oh! Oh right!"

The blond quickly produced a plain manila file folder and set it on the bedside table. William tried not to look too eager before he took it up and flipped through the thick and comforting weight of the pages.

" I got ya those backlogged reports for review like you asked, Sir. And I called the detention center for you too. They told me Boss Sutcliffs not on their guest list. I had Annie, she's a cute brunette with curls and strawberry lipstick… Anyways, I had her check it twice for me and she said he's not there. I think that means they had ta let him go after we got our reports in on time. Least nothin in mine said he was on the hook for doin anything wrong…"

Ronald looked at his supervisor as if he expected William to tell him differently. As if he were going to hear exactly why Mr. Sutcliff deserved to be locked up and go through yet another disciplinary hearing that would knock his rank back down to trainee level at best.

"Have you called his apartment? He hasn't been around here yet."

William replied simply and his gaze drifted towards his only vase of flowers. The note from Grell was still tucked safely in the front pocket of the dressing robe he wore. Ronald looked towards the flowers and back to William before he had a moment of understanding and a small smile came to his face.

"I didn't get an answer when I rang him, I thought he might be out somewhere celebrating his victory. Once I get off my shift I was gonna make the rounds at the pubs and see… One a the guards over at HQ must be sweet on him to have gotten those flowers to you Sir."

"Yes, I'm sure he has his ways…"

William didn't really feel like going into the topic of how Grell was likely to have persuaded a guard. Instead he noticed something different about Knox that caught his eye.

"Why are you carrying a training scythe Mr. Knox? Is your usual machine still damaged?"

Knox looked down and moved his open suit jacket back from the thick leather belt and harness slung around his hips that holstered a small hand held traditionally shaped scythe. It was the kind of weapon they all learned to reap on back in the academy but would be far too obvious to go wandering around with in the human world these days.

"Ah, this old thing? Yeah, I guess you were right about Boss Sutcliff being some kinda genius. No one down at maintenance can figure out whats gone wrong with the motor in my mower. I'm stuck using this bit a scrap till he gets back to fix it since he's the one who designed her for me. Just my luck for wanting something bespoke and going to a guy whose sixpence short of a shilling half the time so no one else can get her sorted."

"Of course."

William felt like he should be groaning again. It figured Grell was responsible for his juniors lazy choice in collection equipment. The mower was powerful and could store far more souls than an ordinary scythe enabling Ronald to go to the end of his shift before he had to report back from the field, but it was also heavy and slow and gave him a disadvantage in a fight. He was working hard to make up for it with his knife fighting skills and extra combat training, but even so it left him looking like an easy target that attracted trouble as William had learned first hand.

"I mean, it's not a complete shambles out there yet Sir, but we're so short on guys it's hard for me to be runnin back and forth to dispatch to deliver each soul one at a time."

William was not going to argue the point between efficiency and laziness today. He also ignored the pain of his wounds as he pushed himself up and got to his feet. He straightened to his full height and adjusted the sash of his navy robe. Finding his slippers next he looked at his subordinate expectantly.

"Right. Mr. Knox, if you'd care to accompany me I should like to sign myself out now. We can search for Mr. Sutcliff together and make sure he's not out causing trouble when there's work to be done."

Ronalds eyes went big as he saw William getting up. He looked like he wanted to offer him a hand but he kept his distance all the same.

"Are you sure you should be going out Sir! It's not been three days yet and they said you had a week before…"

"Three days is more than enough. "

William snapped with determination glinting in the cold steel of his eyes. He held his beloved paperwork close against his chest and marched his way towards the door stubbornly ignoring how stiff and aching his muscles were from having grey metal energy leeching into his bloodstream and the lingering pain of the wound in his midsection. With one purpose set in mind he moved out the door and back out into the world.

William T. Spears was a man on a mission. He knew he had to find Grell. He smoothed a hand over the note in his pocket. He wanted to be there for him too. To be by his side. He needed Grell and maybe it wasn't love in the same vein. Maybe it was. He didn't know and finding out was going to be scary and messy. But he could not face another century of sitting here like a lump while Grell did everything he possibly could to win the smallest scrap of his affections. He owed him at the very least his gratitude and respect and to finally stop being the cold bastard Grell so often lamented him to be and welcome him as an equal into his life.

It had taken the blood of fourteen demons and almost loosing his life, but William was certain he was finally on the right path to really living in this bland and endless existence. He knew with more certainty than he had ever known anything that having Grell with him was what made facing the coming years of eternity bearable. Grell Sutcliff was the splash of colour that made "forever' a cherished word and not a grey curse. His thoughts echoing the words of his dream, for better or worse Grell was his 'forever' too.

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	4. Chapter 4

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"Wow, hey, I never been invited over to one of these townhouses before. You management guys really do get better digs than the rest of us, don't cha?"

Ronald was leaning against the granite counter top of the kitchen island and he snagged the single green apple from the wooden bowl in the center. There was no answer from William as he had promptly turned away and gone upstairs to change into his uniform leaving his junior to entertain himself. He certainly wasn't about to offer him anything in the way of hospitality since this was not a social call. Ronald was still technically on the clock with another nine souls on his death list for today.

"It's kinda empty though…"

Ronald said to himself as he looked around at the light oak cabinets and empty counters.

Everything in Williams townhouse was as clean and polished as if it were just made, the furniture all being comfortable looking but never used and the decor done in neutral creams and browns. It even smelled like lemon floor polish when they'd first walked in.

It was a very large place for one lonely bachelor who obviously never entertained. The posh looking front hall they'd walked down had passed a parlor where the chairs were covered in dust sheets and the dining room off it was also preserved the same. Only the small round oak table in back of the kitchen looked as if it were ever used. It was set with a brown place mat and empty water glass in front of a bay window overlooking the narrow back garden.

The yard was mostly overgrown out there, a typical English garden more a tangle of columbines and field flowers than neat beds and surrounded by a plain wooden fence with a few cedar trees that could once have been a hedge along the back to obscure the neighbors. A pair of grey squirrels were raiding a little wooden bird feeder and causing a fuss amongst the pigeons below. Ronald imagined his supervisor sitting here in the mornings eating his breakfast and ignoring nature as he flipped through more paperwork.

If Ronald had an upscale place like this he'd have room to host his own parties on Friday nights. The kitchen table would be used for poker and the formal dining room would be for billiards and darts. And upstairs, he was sure the master bedroom must be a good size where he could make a properly impressive love nest to bring his dates back to instead of shagging in a cheap hotel or his current embarrassingly messy and tiny apartment.

Management definitely had it's perks, Ronald was reminded as he chomped on the refreshing tartness of his apple. Once you got high enough in the ranks you were given the choice of any sort of home you wanted and you could furnish it however you liked. The resources of their realm were reserved for those who served it well. It was something obviously going to waste on someone like Mr. Spears who put no importance at all on things away from work. A sort of irony that the better worker you were, the less you even wanted the rewards or had time to use them if you did.

Ronald considered for a moment what Grell would do with a place like this. Red everywhere first off. And then he'd probably start on red roses all over the garden, and pets like a cat or some birds to get some life in the place. After that of course he'd start on a nursery to go along with his dreams of one day having a family of some sort.

In Ronalds experience very few reapers, not even the girls he was dating, ever talked about that sort of thing and it had always set Grell apart. Reaper children were extremely rare since being born of death was a little tricky and a hell of a lot trickier and down right impossible for Grell who was made as a male. But Ronald wasn't one to laugh at anyone's dreams when his were as shallow as getting off work early and having a place to put his own pool table and king sized bed.

If Grell wanted something to mother aside from the new recruits at work Ronald was sure there was some kind of adoption program going for anyone, even someone with as shoddy a record as Grell, who wanted to give it a go. Realm born reapers weren't always the most normal or lovable looking creatures and it was common for them to be dumped off in a grey concrete facility to be raised by an understaffed system without parents until they were mature enough for the academy. Despite the cozy homes management had and the prospect of settling down and marrying a nice girl, the all encompassing and cold demands of their work meant the perfect loving reaper family of Grells dreams just didn't exist.

The reality was more often pregnancies that were a complete fluke when two reapers energies were actually compatible enough to spark a new life. Children were usually unwanted and abandoned. The duties of death gave little spare time for a single parent and relationships with other reapers rarely lasted. Forever love was also another false dream when couples couldn't die of old age, they just inevitably grew apart over so many years. Many had already had families in their human lives and didn't feel the need to repeat that cycle now. Others like Ronald didn't even try looking for just one mate to share their after life with. They were much happier staying single and enjoying variety. Having an active social life and changing partners gave a reaper something to look forward to.

Now that he thought about it, Ronald's chain saw wielding cross dressing mentor wasn't exactly the most well adjusted individual, and those pointed teeth of his were a little off putting. Not to mention the unnaturally vibrant shock of scarlet hair against marble white skin and his rather surprising strength from such a slim frame. The red reaper had never talked about any sort of human life or how he was recruited to serve in deaths ranks. Most reapers kept it to themselves, but some were more boastful about their human lives. Grell was the type who loved to tell a good story and yet there had never been a word from him on the matter.

It had honestly never occurred to Ronald before, the question of where someone like Grell had come from in the first place or why he put such importance on finding "true love" and having a family of his own. Ronald wasn't going to be rude enough to ask him, but he was kicking himself for not seeing it sooner. There was no way in any heaven or hell that Grell Sutcliff had ever been remotely human. He was realm born or Ronald would eat his own scythe.

The sound of a throat being cleared behind him had Ronald almost jumping out of his own skin.

"Are you still available to join me, Mr Knox?"

William asked in his usual emotionless tone. The junior reaper turned with some surprise to see him back so soon and looking as pristine and imposing as he'd ever looked. His crisp black suit and tie matched his slicked back ebony hair. He buttoned his suit jacket over his black waistcoat neatly with black gloved fingers. Even his square framed glasses were black and his yellow and green ringed eyes behind them were as sharp and cold as the blade of a scythe.

William T. Spears was the picture of efficiency and the looming inevitability of death in every line of his being and it made Ronald give him a slightly nervous smile and take a small step towards the window at his back.

"Ah, yeah, sure thing Chief! My next appointments not for another hour and forty three minutes. Got a busy afternoon lined up though… "

The younger reaper checked his large silver wrist watch just to make sure. He looked like a puppy that had been caught chewing on a shoe and he didn't really know what to do with the apple core in his other gloved hand. He ended up hiding it in a handkerchief inside his pocket. Seeing William looking like himself again and realizing he was standing in his supervisors empty kitchen made Ronald suddenly feel like he'd crossed some sort of line he shouldn't have.

"Very well. Come with me."

William didn't offer any reassurance to the boy, he simply turned on his well polished heel and headed back out the door expecting Knox to fall in line behind him.

"Hey! Um, where are we going to first? Do you wanna split up ta make it go faster and meet back somewhere when we find him?"

Ronald was thinking that if he found Grell first he'd be able to sneak in a few pints before they had to head back. He was giving up his lunch break and time he should be spending on paperwork after all. His supervisor was having none of it however.

"That won't be necessary. I'm certain he hasn't gotten far. The Raven and Firkin is just down the street from his apartment is it not?"

William on the other hand was thinking that he might need someone to lean on if they had to search in the human realm as well. He'd barely convinced his doctor to let him sign out and walk around with a still healing scythe wound. His head was already pounding more than he let on and phasing from place to place did wear a reaper down. There would come a point that his limited resources would be spent and he may have to rely on his junior, or worse Grell himself, to get them back to the dispatch offices. Sacrificing his pride a little would be worth it if it meant he could get this confrontation over with and have them all back to work as normal.

Without another word William began to orient his form towards the first location, his dark silhouette dissipating into the eerie chill mist reapers often left behind. Ronald had no choice but to follow along.

The dispatch manager was quick and efficient in his scan of each establishment they came upon. After checking all of the usual places in the reaper realm without turning up a trace of Grells aura they finally stopped in at his apartment complex. It was only approaching noon after all, perhaps it was too early for the red reaper to venture out to a café or pub or even that one hair salon he liked. William knew Grell wouldn't turn up at the dining hall at work since he'd been banned from it months ago after a petty scuffle. He was sure his friend was simply being lazy and sleeping in without bothering to answer his phone. Ronald had tried calling from the last tavern they'd been at and gotten only endless ringing.

There was no real lobby area or front desk on the first floor of the apartment building. It was of the older style gothic architecture with only eight floors. Regular paper pushers and support staff for the division dwelled here and there was little spared for any luxuries for that class. Grell had been evicted from his more modern appartment and exiled here as part of the punishment for his many violations during the Jack the Ripper incident. William didn't really see that it was as bad as his friend had complained. Nothing seemed in disrepair, it was all simple and functional. He actually rather liked that there was wood work and stone instead of glaring white modern lines and it was a nice change to have an old fashioned stairwell instead of an elevator.

He soon changed his mind about the stairs though as the key in his pocket he'd been given as Grells surety was labeled for the eighth floor. Apartment 816 was in fact the very last one in the musty dimly lit and patchy carpeted hallway. By the time he'd gotten there William was in a terribly foul mood and he had to lean against the wall for a moment to gather his energy.

Ronald had gone quiet and didn't say anything. He knew his supervisors anger was growing the longer they searched. He seriously doubted Grell playing hooky like this was going to get him any kind of thank-you even after he'd clearly saved Williams life. He was starting to get mad at Grell too by this point for not coming in to the office to see him this morning. William had gotten flowers and he'd not even gotten a card or anything and half his head had been bashed in!

Ronald had been near useless in that fight but he'd surely deserved some gesture of sympathy from his friend at least. Grell was an arrogant bastard on some days, a right selfish diva and Ronald knew it. He shouldn't expect much from this visit other than getting ribbed about his failure if that was the sort of mood Grell was in.

"Grell Sutcliff. If you are home open this door immediately. I wish to speak with you."

William had straightened himself up and delivered three business like thumps upon Grells paint chipped brown door. After a few moments of silence he sighed and knocked again.

"Sutcliff! Are you home?"

There was still no answer so out came the key that Ronald didn't even know a dispatch manager should have. Although perhaps because they were old friends, or perhaps because Grell kept flirting and trying to take William home with him to bed… Ronald didn't want to let his mind wander too far into those sorts of reasons. The reality was that William had been the one to take responsibility before the council to look after the red head should anything go amiss and that included having access to his private living quarters.

The door swung open on rusty squeaking hinges to an unoccupied apartment. It was actually the first time William had been here and he strode over to the neatly made bed just to make sure there was nowhere else the flamboyant reaper could be hiding from him. He frowned at the thin worn rose patterned quilt on the narrow cot and even went so far as to poke at the one red velvet throw pillow that sat there. He turned around to take in the rest of the apartment and realized there really wasn't much else to see. It was only one room, there was obviously a communal washroom down the hall.

Across from the small bed there was a tiny closet without any door. The expected red negligee and satin robe caught his eye, and the long black suit jacket Grell was supposed to wear to work but never did. There were a few white dress shirts and waist coats and three sets of ordinary mens dress shoes neatly placed along the bottom. It was for the most part incredibly lacking in womens gowns and feather boas and the other expected extravagances Grell adored. If he'd had a collection of that sort of thing it had most likely been confiscated along with his old apartment.

The rest of the room was equally and uncharacteristically plain. A small square table and wobbly chair were in front of a tall rectangular window with a broken pain of glass boarded up. William had to walk around a rusty bucket on the worn floorboards to get to it and he looked up at the leak in the ceiling as he passed. There was a bit of lacy curtain across the window and a red geranium in a pot on the window ledge. The view outside was the brickwork of a taller building instead of sky.

Behind the table along the adjoining wall was a bookshelf that contained Grells precious volumes of Shakespere and a scattering of his photography equipment. Various flash stands and a few different lenses and photo plates lay piled on the lowest shelf. There were many pictures of William himself there as well as the other reapers from work in mismatched frames. One very prominent portrait of that cursed Demon Sebastian Michaelis stood out, it had little hearts and a cupid drawn floating about his head and Earl Phantomhive scowling in the background. It gave him a definite clue as to where Grell may have ended up today and the thought of having to face that vile creature to ask after his friend made William grind his teeth with rancour.

"Well, doesn't look like he's been home yet…"

Ronald finally said while William was venomously scrutinizing the photos. The place always smelled a bit moldy to him and no matter how much perfume Grell sprayed around it never seemed to help. Whenever the junior Reaper thought his own apartment was small all he had to do was walk his Sempai home from the pub to see first hand there were worse places a shinigami could be handed to live. Ronald stood by a tall dresser of drawers and was playing with a comb and hand held mirror he found there to vainly straighten up his hair. William walked over to him with a dissatisfied glare.

"Put that away Knox. We shall have to continue searching in the human realm."

William eyed the assortment of beauty products left out on top of the old scratched up dresser. There actually weren't as many bottles as he expected.

Mascara, eyeliner pencil, face powder, one tube of "dusty rose" lipstick, a hairbrush and styling gel. There were only two kinds of perfume and some contraption William couldn't identify that was actually an eyelash curler next to a box of false lashes and glue. Most of it William recognized from the time he'd had to room with Grell back in the academy for their final assignment. The false lashes and lipstick were really the only new things, he'd always worn powder to hide light freckles and heavy eyeliner and mascara to darken red lashes. At the time Grell had lamented that freckles made him look too young and the thick feathery red haze of his natural lashes over bright green eyes were actually quite unsettling. William had never faulted him for fussing over his appearance when the objective had been to blend in and appear more normal. The false eyelashes of Grells current look however were taking things to a ridiculous feminine level.

"You sure you're up for more Chief?"

Ronald wasn't completely insensitive to the fact the elder Reaper must be getting worn out by now with his injury. His senior only glared at him and Ronald looked around desperately for something to redeem himself with. He put down the mirror and comb and picked up a large pink jar with a twist off sort of lid that William had overlooked as it wasn't labeled as anything. The blond held it out with his usual winning smile.

"Hey, you see this stuff? Aloe and mint beauty balm! You gotta get some yourself while we're out today! Grell sempai swears by it and I tried it too. It's no miracle or nothing, but it does a good bit to take away the sting!"

For a moment William blinked at him as if he'd just grown a second head. What exactly did Grell use that for? Take the sting away from what? At first William assumed the conversation had taken a turn towards the gutter.

"I mean, er, if your scars bugging you Sir? It did wonders for mine! Doesn't ache at all anymore and as much as the ladies love a good battle wound I was pretty happy the marks from the stitches don't show no more. It's only a bit pink now when I'm in the shower, the rest of the time it's hardly noticeable if you wanna see?"

Ronald even went as far as starting to unbutton the top of his shirt before the other stopped him.

"That's quite alright Mr Knox. I do believe you."

William deadpanned at him, not offering up any opinion on the matter of Grells vanity or his own.

"Ah, ok then. I never got to see how well it worked for sempai, he won't show anyone his. Says it ruined his perfect complexion or some such thing. Then again, he stepped into the swing a little in front of me cause he tried to push me back at the last second. It's probably a deeper slash on him, got him right over the heart too."

William frowned and Ronald put the bottle of cream back somewhat sheepishly. The junior Reaper was talking about the incident several months ago in which he and Grell had taken a scythe swing from Undertaker while on board the sinking ship Campania. There was a small pang of guilt for William as he remembered waking Grell up with a few well placed kicks to the head and forcing him to work while he was still wounded.

His hand strayed to his own injury now and the burning ache and sting of grey metal was indeed still upon him even days later. He wondered at how Grell had been so glad to see him even with such a cruel welcome. How could anyone just bounce right back up with a scythe wound to the chest and be happy to see the person stomping on their head? If that was love William wasn't sure he had the strength for it himself.

"We will return to the dispatch offices so that I can assign your work load to another field agent for the remainder of your shift. If you would phase us back there now?"

William held out his hand for Ronald to take. He needed the help now if he was going to keep from wearing himself out and have something left with to yell at Grell when they found him. The human world was not going to be an easy place to search.

"Huh? Oh! Sure, no problem Mr Spears!"

Ronald gave him a brighter grin and took the stiffly offered gloved hand so they could travel together on his energy. He hadn't been keeping track of the time but William obviously had been and his next soul retrieval was coming up fast.

Being out on the town with his supervisor wasn't exactly Ronalds idea of a fun afternoon, but at the very least it held the prospect of getting off work early. He was always for getting off early! He had a hot date already lined up with a very bubbly blond nurse and perhaps even a few of her friends. No work today and hot girls waiting. Life was good no matter how much of a jerk his sempai was for ditching them!

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	5. Chapter 5

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A precise sense of timing and a clear and concise sensory memory are essential to every Reaper. A Grim Reapers body is composed entirely of neutral energy, neither living nor entirely dead, and not perceived in any realm but their own as solid and real unless they put forth the effort to make it so. They are as insubstantial and invisible as ghosts in heaven, hell, the human realm, or any other plane unless they allow their energy to take on the respective qualities of matter found in those realms.

Even when taking the solid form of normal positive matter their endurance and physical abilities are many times that of an ordinary human. Reapers require food and rest to replenish their strength and changing their energy from neutral to either positive or negative matter is one of the most common yet tiring things they do on a daily basis. Their eyesight is also a flaw in most circumstances, designed to read the cinematic records of souls and the different types of energy around them. Reapers rely heavily on their glasses to see effectively when in any realm but their own. For some human recruited Reapers their eyes never adjust perfectly and they stay nearly blind to anything other than the souls they were forged to collect.

The Reaper realm itself exists in neutral time and space, a misty insubstantial pocket dimension sandwiched between other realms like the eye of a storm where everything is always still and unchanging. There is no turn of seasons or shifting weather patterns, only the haze of sunless blue sky that fades to dark and back to light every twelve hours. The temperature is always a pleasant degree that never varies. There is no need for the cycles of nature since death permanently walks the streets embodied in every inhabitant. There is no past or future here, there is only existing, and not existing, and the work of death that follows the human realms timeline in between.

Travelling between places and realms to conduct the business of collecting souls relies on negative energy. Every Reaper has the uncanny ability to change their own neutral energy into this negative force deliberately conflicting with the positive energy and matter of the universe at large. In this way Reapers are able to direct said energy to a very specific point thereby bending the planes of space upon itself to create a gateway, a wormhole connecting two different locations and points in time in a single instant. Usually referred to simply as "phasing" from one place to another, Reaper gateways are only sanctioned between well known locations. Blind phasing to unmapped locations is never encouraged for the obvious fact that one could become fatally stuck within objects if the landing point is not clear and well memorized. Entry and exit points to other realms like the human one are almost always the same safe buildings and fields kept clear by the dispatch association for just such a purpose.

William should have expected that Ronald Knox did not have the finesse or experience to make a smooth gateway, nor a good sense of timing by the very large and overly showy wrist watch he wore, nor even the faintest hint of a decent memory going by how many late reports he submitted on a daily basis.

As they both nearly smacked their noses into the concrete wall at the side of the main entrance to the dispatch offices William knew he really couldn't say anything. He should have known better than to ask.

The only other Reaper whose energy he ever travelled on was Grell. Should William ever be caught unaware enough not to pull away in time the red Reaper made phasing as simple and seamless as blinking and then they were there without any chance of escape. And "there" almost always involved red satin sheets strewn with rose petals and other very scary things he'd like not to have been blinded with. Sometimes he wondered if Grell were the true reason his vision was so terrible without the aid of his very important glasses.

"Thank-you, Mr. Knox."

William ground out as he snatched his hand back and adjusted his glasses to glare at the very solid grey wall before them. Another few inches and they would have been in a very bad way. He straightened his suit jacket and smoothed his hair back into place from the rough jerking turns of their trip. Then the Dispatch Manager non chalantly stepped out of the prickly juniper bushes in the narrow strip of ornamental garden and out onto the spongy grass of the main lawn. Ronald beside him looked red as a tomato. He flailed his hands in a cancelling motion and all but fell out of the garden.

"Ah ha! Sorry! Sorry! Didn't mean to cut it so close Sir! I was just thinking bout Maria over in accounting, you know that blond with the curls who always wears a green bow in her hair that matches her eyes? Her hallways just left of the main entrance so I guess I went a little off course…"

William was not interested in excuses or how Knox seemed to know every female staff member by their given name. For a moment he seriously tried to recall if having an employee castrated was actually against the rules despite the fact that it would regenerate in a day or so. Once he was on the steps to the towering modern glass office building of the London branch he turned and gave his junior a sharp unforgiving glare.

"Give me your death book and meet me in my office shortly. You are to tell Mr. Peters from Wessex County he had best have all my paperwork up to date."

"Right away Chief! You got it! I'll make sure everythings in order!"

Knox handed over the book and saluted him. He bounded up the stairs like a runner who had just heard a starters pistol almost bowling over another reaper carrying paperwork as he shouldered through the glass doors. William would have sighed in exasperation except for the fact that deep breaths still pained him. Instead he shook his head and slowly and resolutely made his way into the almost painfully bright fluorescent lights and pristine white and grey space of the main lobby. Other busy dark suited reapers passed him by, heads down and lost in their paperwork or talking in quiet tones with their colleagues about case work. He swiped his ID card to access the elevators for the second floor. It was being lazy, but he was done with stairs for the day.

One look at the punch clock when he walked by it and the slats along the wall for death books and William could tell that Grell was not working at all today. It was a rare thing indeed to see the small red leather bound book still in it's place this time of day. Grell was usually eager to do his field work and not so eager to actually go further into the offices to set foot in his own cubicle for paperwork. William picked up the death book and added it to Ronalds.

At the glass wall across the counter of the General Affairs Department William stopped to ask after his death scythe. This area was heavily warded and a Reaper could not summon their scythe unless it was first signed out. The pleasant neat looking woman behind the counter, he never remembered her name and couldn't be bothered to look at her ID tag, politely told him that it had indeed been recovered for him and since repaired. After swiping his ID card she passed his tree pruners with their telescoping handle over to him through the small window in the glass.

William immediately had a feeling of relief pass through him as he held his weapon up and examined the length of the shaft for any dents or bends. It was perfect and the feeling of his own energy he'd marked it with resonating from the grip brought an almost smile to his face. He had a very painful understanding of just how deadly an instrument it was and appreciated the privilege of wielding it even more. He quickly stowed it away from sight in a small subspace field within his own aura to be materialized later when needed. There was a fair chance that going to the human realm was going to tax him and if he didn't need it as a weapon he may very well rely on it as a cane.

As he turned to leave something silver and very red on one of the back shelves caught his eye and he had to turn back. It was clearly Grells chainsaw. It was somewhat strange to see it there and William looked from one side to the other as if he expected its owner to pop up and ask for it that very second. He made his way back up to the window.

"Has Mr. Sutcliff not been by today to pick up his scythe?"

He inquired carefully. Grell had a bad habit of rarely if ever turning in his scythe at the end of his shifts and hated to be without it. That lapse in obeying regulations had probably been part of the reason William was alive here today. The brunette behind the counter looked up from some paper work and adjusted her copper framed glasses at him.

"No Sir. Not yet. It's only just been fixed. They had a time of it trying to get a new chain made and the sides were dented in fairly badly. Luckily there was nothing wrong with the mechanisms or the magnetic field resonances in the power core or we' d have been up the creek. She's all ready to go now though."

Maintenance had probably had the stench of demon blood to scrub out of it as well if Ronalds account of the aftermath of the attack were accurate. William was grateful his own scythe had been well disinfected on his behalf.

"I see. Might I sign that one out too? I am Agent Sutcliffs Supervisor and I'm on my way to see him."

William said plainly without any hint of nefarious intent. It would be far better if Grell was unarmed when they met just in case his mood was a sour one. Preventing him from signing out his beloved scythe from General Affairs also meant he couldn't get his hands on it unless he was intent on coming back to work. William had the best form of blackmail he could get.

"Ah, yes of course Mr. Spears, Sir. Just fill out this form here."

She obviously knew who he was without needing to be told since he'd looked after Grells scythe issues for years now. Almost everyone knew who the red Reaper was simply by reputation without need for explanation as well. The clerk easily pushed new paperwork across to him. William took a fountain pen out of his front pocket and filled it out almost by memory. He looked up abruptly when a loud crash alerted him to the poor womans difficulties. Grells chainsaw was far heavier than it looked and the blade had taken a good chunk out of the marble floor tiles when it fell from her grip.

"Hells bells! Those brats in maintenance do this to me every time! They know not to put the heavy clunkers up on the top shelf!"

William would have offered to help but the woman was intent on fulfilling her duty and dragging the chainsaw across the floor for him causing a terrible ear splitting screech as the spiky blade scraped against the tiles. Everyone along the counter row turned to look at them and William tried to seem as if it didn't bother him in the least. He pulled off a very good straight face and no one else came to help the swearing clerk as if convinced this was the usual way such a scythe was delivered. She finally heaved it up onto the counter with a defining clunk and then swore again as it wouldn't fit through the small window in the glass.

"For the love of Pete, who designs these god awful things!" She swore another few choice words under her breath and swung it into the rolling chair she'd been sitting in. She wheeled the red chainsaw out through a side door and around the row of counters towards William. He had to give her a few points for creativity and not giving up.

"I can't understand how such a weighty monstrosity can be used for snipping away cinematic records, but here you go."

The clerk all but snapped at him as William hefted the chainsaw with both hands and promptly stowed it away alongside his own scythe. Just lifting it made his arms ache on a normal day, he was sure today he'd have fallen over if he tried to take two steps. Grells deceptively smaller more slender physique hid a great deal of preternatural strength and William had firsthand knowledge that the scythes true owner had no trouble at all handling her. Grell had designed and made it himself after all without any regard for regulations or what a dignified and discrete Reapers scythe was supposed to look like.

"Thank-you for your trouble Mame. And for future reference, this particular scythe and it's owner specialize in dismembering demonic foes."

The clerk was suddenly all smiles at him once more as she placed rumors with facts.

"Ah! Right oh! Keep up the good work and have yourself a jolly good afternoon! We're most proud of you Sir for giving those hell spawn what for! Central Division has all our toasts at the pub!"

William gave her a sedate nod and went on his way as he tried not to feel like an undeserving failure for being run through with his own scythe. He definitely wasn't going to mention it at the moment.

He decided he was going up to his own floor to find some senior reapers in his own division he could give Knox and Grells work load to. As a Dispatch Manager and Division Supervisor the twenty second floor was his own personal domain. Reapers were divided up into different divisions even amongst the departments. A division was a smaller work group to handle different areas of their given territory and although William was the Dispatch Manager for the entirety of the London Branch of the Shinigami Dispatch Association he still had his own personal group of working reapers to supervise. His was called Central Division and focused their efforts on the downtown core of London itself. Recently Williams group, composed of some of the most experienced Reapers in London, were used to pick up extra cases in other outlying areas. Especially collections that dealt with demonic elements such as Earl Phantomhive and his hell sent butler.

Currently Central Division of the London Dispatch was down to nine pairs of working Field Agents composed of a Senior Agent and their Junior in training. Among them he would have to see who was available and far enough along in their own case load to handle extra work.

As soon as the elevator doors opened William phased into invisibility just on the near side of creating a gateway and dampened the energy in his aura for undetectable stealth. He didn't frequent this technique often for spying on employees but thought it prudent at the moment to avoid the unwanted attention of his return. It was the optimum method for observing his subordinates when they thought he wasn't around.

Everything seemed to be normal, most of the cubicles and offices he passed were messier than usual with piles of neglected paperwork but otherwise empty as this was prime time for reapers to be out in the field. He spotted Eric Slingby entering Allan Humphries office and decided he had his targets. It was just after lunch and both should be getting back to work. The fact Agent Slingby wasn't in the field must mean he had completed all of his cases for the day or at the very least had a large gap of time before his next collection.

William however stayed invisible as he approached thinking it was better to use discretion before engaging them and interrupting something that may be private between the two. They were lovers after all and William acknowledged that their relationship was vital to their productivity at work.

He watched from the hallway through a crack in the blinds across the front of the glass walled office space. The tall rough looking blond with one half of his head dyed in dark cornrows came around behind his shorter seated colleague. He bent down and whispered something close to his ear that made Allan adjust his oval glasses and his usually sickly complexion coloured with a blush.

The paperwork before Allan stopped being filled out which made William frown. It made him frown even more when Erics lips and goatee brushed the side of Allans slim neck. Allan raised a hand to the front of his collar where there were still gauze bandages showing above the white starched fabric and his black bolo tie. His pale rose lips parted in a soft and wanting gasp even as his partner moved away, snatching away half of the paperwork from the pile in front of him.

Eric laughed his usual hearty laughter with a cocky grin and pulled up a spare chair to park his broader lanky frame down beside his partner.

"Eric! Hey! No fair you tease, that's mine! You know I can't go out in the field yet, you promised you'd let me handle your paperwork!"

The brunet reaper was stubborn and pouted indignantly at him with an angry glare as the other held the stolen papers just beyond his reaching black gloved fingertips.

"Awww, come on Sweetheart, you know there's plenty of this stuff to go around! If I don't chip in you'll be stuck here for overtime and it's the only thing a mine you'll get to "handle". You know how I hate goin home to a cold empty bed."

William wondered for a moment if that's what Grell had always been trying to do when he came into his office and leaned over him from behind to steal a kiss just like Eric had. He had the feeling if he didn't slap Grells reaching hands away that he'd have aimed lower and grabbed something far less appropriate than the stack of paperwork.

"Don't you 'Sweetheart' me Eric Slingby! I'm not completely useless you know, I can still do paperwork just fine! And I'm taking that combat test next week whether you like it or not. I can't stand being in here when I know what kind of a mess you have to face out in London every day. Without Spears to pick up the slack and Grell gone off on another bender somewhere…"

Eric reached over and tousled his junior partners soft chestnut hair lovingly and bumped their shoulders together to try and playfully lighten his mood.

"I know, I know. You wanna get back on your feet and reap yourself some demons too. Just don't go rushing things Al, ok? You still get me worried sometimes…"

"Ah, sorry… You know…if we do get this pile done and there's no overtime tonight, maybe we could…"

Allan began almost shyly but there was an eager spark in his lemon lime eyes as he leaned closer to his partner. His suddenly bare ungloved fingers were tracing the lapel of Erics open suit jacket and slipping inside the already unbuttoned shirt collar. The larger man hummed approvingly and leaned in too.

Another few seconds and there would be absolutely no paperwork at all being done. William chose to phase back into visibility and gave a sharp business like knock just below the brass name plate on Field Agent Allan Humphries door.

"Mr. Humphries, Mr. Slingby, are you free at the moment?"

He called in his usual emotionless voice. Addressing his agents simply by their last names instead of their working titles was about as informal as William ever got and he wanted it to be clear he was not on the clock just yet.

Both Reapers heads snapped up at the knock and Eric shot to his feet knowing he wasn't supposed to be working in here since he had his own office just down the hall. William impatiently opened the door on his own and loomed there like a dark shadow risen from the grave.

"Jezus, Spears! What the hell are you doing back here! They told us you took a death scythe straight through your gut!"

Eric exclaimed without really thinking.

"Indeed."

William looked at him coldly and adjusted the side arm of his glasses with two fingers in a kind of salute. Eric simply looked back at him for a moment with his mouth slightly gaping, then it instantly turned up into a wider grin and he came forward and slapped his supervisor on his shoulder.

"Fourteen demons, eh! Never knew you had it in ya! We used to think you were getting rusty from sitting behind that desk of yours all day."

"Welcome back, Sir. We're glad to see you looking so well !"

Allan said more calmly with a rare bright smile. He was actually very relieved to see that things were getting back to normal, although he was already eying the death books tucked under Williams arm.

"Thank-you Mr. Humphries. And you also."

William intoned politely, then turned to give Eric another glacial glare refusing to budge an inch under his rough treatment.

"Sutcliff was the one who took down the demons. Neither I nor Mr. Knox were effective in that encounter … Has he been by the office today?"

Both reapers in front of him had their eyes widen and they looked at each other and then back at him.

"No Sir, we haven't seen Grell since before, well, since Monday afternoon when he headed out after you. You don't think he's finally, um, snapped, do you Sir?"

It was a question that had to be asked after all and Allan had always been one to get straight to the point.

"There is always that possibility." William admitted honestly. "I am on my way to the human realm with Mr. Knox to search for him. The two of you will cover the rest of their cases for today."

William handed over the small leather bound books to Eric and the blond groaned and ran a hand through his shaggy side swept bangs.

"God I hate overtime! When that balmy ginger gets back here I'm gonna give him a dam good pounding for this."

"You might not want to say that anywhere Grell can hear of it Eric. He is right off tearing up more demons than you or I have ever seen, not to mention he might take it an entirely different way..."

Allan pointed out logically, his expression having fallen into tighter more concerned lines at the thought of a chainsaw wielding psychopath coming after his boyfriend with possibly amorous intent.

"Fuck if you're right. And I sure ain't buying him another pint next time he sits in my lap."

Eric crossed his arms and that seemed to be Williams cue to leave with a curt 'Good day gentlemen." since he did not need to hear the argument that was surely going to start between the pair about when and where the flirtatious red head had done what with Eric. He could see the cool jealousy building in Allans expression already and he tried to ignore the tightening of his own fist at his side. It was definitely time to get back to the comfort of his own office.

William was glad for one thing as he walked away, that he had two of his most reliable reapers back on duty where he needed them. It had only been a month after all since their "defection" and as unproductive as some of their activities were, at least they were still here. Young Allans constant and debilitating affliction, the thorns of death, also seemed to be in remission since his return. He may never fully regain his stamina and health but he was certainly much happier and more effective than he'd ever been before.

If anyone were to ask the Queens watch dog Earl Phantomhive or his demonic servant the outcome of that particular case they would both proclaim victory and the demise of two death gods at their own hands. It was something that made even William himself crack a wane smile at the thought. Perhaps that scum Sebastian Michaelis could kill one Reaper, maybe, if they were having a bad day. But the fact that they claimed to have taken down an experienced pair of Grim Reapers was ludicrous to everyone.

It was true Allan had been injured by his partners death scythe when he'd put himself between the blade and Erics target trying to stop the confrontation. A neck wound from a scythe was an incredibly serious matter to most reapers. It was a mistake that stopped Eric from going any further. He'd literally dropped everything including his pride, scooped Allan up into his arms and raced back to the dispatch infirmary with him. Their plans for running away together as fugitives because Eric was intent on sacrificing his collected souls to cure his partners illness completely evaporated. The Undertaker, who also happened to have a fair number of death scythe scars and was living proof a neck wound could be survived, had covered up for them in the human world.

Grell had taken the blame for letting the drama play out since he'd apparently known what was going on the entire time between his two colleagues. He'd gone on and on about how romantic it all was and how entertaining. His mooning over how much time he'd been able to spend with his "darling Sebas-chan" while tracking the pair down got him a good whack over the head with Williams death scythe handle. If anyone was to blame for things going too far it was Grell Sutcliff and his pay was docked for a solid four months to cover damages and expenses during that useless mission. And he was definitely not allowed to keep any of the dresses from the undercover work at Vis Count Druitts ball.

William had been forced to look the other way about the dozen or so souls that had been missing from Count Druitts serial murders and accept them as being filed late. Eric had been nowhere near collecting the absurdly high number of one thousand pure souls mentioned in that old legend for the cure. Punishment for Senior Field Agent Eric Slingby had been a mere two weeks of overtime hours and with that the matter was closed.

The irony of the whole mess was that Eric had been ready to sacrifice everything to find a cure for his beloved partner, but he had overlooked the fact that he'd already found it. The thorns of death were as much an emotional disease as a physical one. The affects grew and fed on negative emotions, inching agonizingly closer to constrict the reapers heart whenever sympathy opened up the gates to let in the cold clawing despair of those lost souls. Allan didn't have long to live before he died painfully and alone. His own pain and despair only fuelled the course of his disease that much faster.

But Allan wasn't alone. The love and care of his partner had already been prolonging his life. The attacks grew worse when they happened, but they hadn't been able to claim him to the puzzlement of the doctors. Once Eric had finally confessed his love for Allan, and the brunette had shyly, wonderingly admitted his own feelings, the disease had nothing to further it. It wasn't a true cure, but the thorns would never be able to claim his life while he had Erics love to guard his heart.

It was the Undertaker himself who had told them Allan wouldn't die of the thorns. The retired reaper had come by the infirmary to personally check on the poor youngsters neck wound and had a good long laugh over the pairs quiet defeated misery. He handed them both back their glasses and said he'd been sorely disappointed Allan wasn't going to need his "special" coffin after all. It really was a happy occasion and yet even Williams eye was twitching at the elder shinigami and he shared Erics urge to just deck him for keeping them in the dark so long and then laughing about it. Undertaker was almost as bad as Grell sometimes.

A very dim and grudgingly found light bulb went off in Williams head as he thought of Undertaker, the legendary Shinigami he had most admired and idolized as a young recruit. He thought of Grell, and he compared him to the Undertaker, and it was enough to triple his headache. They were both very competent and clever reapers who were bored enough with everyday things they had to add their own brand of insanity to liven things up.

There were many faces of death in the Dispatch Society, but among them those two stood out above all others for William. Undertaker was the pale silver of bone bleached pure under silent dust laden moonbeams, the slow and steady creeping of madness and the cold damp of disease settling beneath ones skin and rotting everything away into inevitable nothingness. Grell was the scarlet splash of blood against the satin night, every startled scream at the end of a life, the red violent tearing of flesh passionate and abrupt and terrifying without hope of escape. They were two different extremes of death and William acknowledged they both had their time and place.

Undertaker had always been the true embodiment of a Reaper for William, his achievements represented everything he'd aspired to in his career. Was Grell any less capable despite the number of times he'd called him a useless nuisance? If Undertaker was the perfect Shinigami and yet equally if not more so annoying than Grell, did that mean William was the one in the wrong to be annoyed by their antics? It definitely made his head hurt.

Lost in his thoughts Williams feet had taken him down the familiar path to his own office and he'd arrived before he even realized it. He opened the door before him and nearly had a heart attack on the spot.

"Honestly!"

He exclaimed in his usual derisive tone as he came upon the horrors that assaulted his eyes. The scene before him was a complete and unorganized disaster! His dark mahogany desk was buried in leaning piles of randomly stacked paperwork, a box of empty manilla file folders was square in the middle of the floor, the uncomfortable chairs for visitors are completely removed and missing, all the filing cabinets behind his desk are open and messily rifled through with precious pages of information spilling out. His almost never used black leather chaise lounge along the side wall was scratched and piled to it's sagging limit with heavy stacks of binders of quarterly reports and employee files. The bookshelf along the opposite wall was completely out of order. His typewriter was missing it's ribbon and pushed off to the side on top of more random cardboard boxes of files. His black stapeler was in the terra cotta pot of the unwatered and very limp looking potted fern in the corner.

This space was more than just a large and well earned corner office with a good view. It was his sanctuary! His place of sacred order! His only comfort against the chaos of the human realm and the incompetent mistakes of those around him! And someone had destroyed all that in a matter of days.

"Mr. Spears, Sir! I'm Agent Simon Peters from down in Wessex County! Been helping your department out a bit while you were indisposed. So good to finally make your acquaintance! Your fast recovery is simply miraculous Sir! We were all just talking about it, were'nt we boys?"

A broad shouldered handsome fellow in a light blue waist coat with his white shirt sleeves rolled up and missing his black jacket and tie called out in a friendly voice. He had blond waved hair and flashed a charming blinding white smile as he stepped across the rubble to hold out a bare hand for William to shake. Ronald was in the background and caught looking as spooked as a deer about to be shot. His arms were full with a box of files he was trying to cram away in the cabinets. A young male secretary with short spiky silver hair from General affairs was helping him by gathering more files from the floor and piling them in his box. He too had frozen when William threw the door open.

"Agent Peters. Explain the state of my office at once."

William did not shake the offered hand. Instead he looked about ready to bite it off and the other man withdrew and took a step back. Williams aura had taken on a very threatening cold edge and everyone in the office waited for Mr. Peters to try and save them.

"Ah, well, nothing to get worked up about Sir, I assure you! We just misplaced a few files and had to go searching for them. And the new ones kept coming in, Londons a might bit bigger than Wessex you see, why your Central Division alone has more collections in a day than we'd see in a month! I had to pile them up on the desk there and then a few more things went astray while I was dealing with the ghost of that shepherd that wouldn't pass on till every one of his sheep were with him. It was a real bother that one was, I'll tell you. Had to coral their ghosts all in the break room so the fellow could count them and be satisfied. We aren't even the ones responsible for the records of animals, had to go all the way over to the Catalogue of Nature department and search through their records for them and then call them all back from the other side!"

"You have so many employees here, I didn't have a second to myself to spare chasing after all the paperwork and scheduling all the shifts and assignments and fixing all the problems that come up with all these cases! I don't know how you do it Mr. Spears! You'd think someone would have found a better way to organize all this by now!"

William simply stared at the man severely unimpressed. Mr Peters realized his winning smile was not working on this particular Reaper and looking to Knox who only shrugged meekly didn't do him any good either. He swallowed heavily as he realized he'd not only made an unseemly mess of the mans office but insulted his filing system as well. The overwhelmed man stood there at a loss for a moment, scraping for more to say before William cut him off just as he opened his mouth.

"Junior Agent Knox will be accompanying me to the human realm to look in on a wayward staff member who did not clock in for his scheduled shift today. You will have this office in order by the time we return. Is that understood Agent Peters?"

William didn't utter any sort of threat. His ominous death glare said more than enough. It was a fact that the office would be back together or Mr. Peters was going to end up on the wrong side of a scythe come the end of the day. No one messed with William T. Spears paperwork!

"I, ah, y,yes! Yes of course Mr Spears, Sir!"

William had already turned his back and was heading out the door at a brisk pace. If he stayed in there any longer he knew he was going to need to stab a certain vainly charming and barely competent Reaper repeatedly.

"Chief! Hey! Wait!"

Ronald had dropped his box of files and run after him, glad not to be left behind to file but actually more than a little terrified of having to spend more time with his boss when he was in such a blatantly homicidal mood. Everyone knew William lived by order and rules and he couldn't stand any form of slacking off. It wasn't really Mr Peters fault that he couldn't handle the massive work load William was used to dealing with. A team of a dozen reapers would probably be needed to replace him if he ever retired since the territory London dispatch covered was gaining more and more population and therefore more souls to reap by the day. William was only holding things together because he knew the system so well and did not take time for anything else besides work.

William stopped and waited for Ronald once he was within the small labarynth of cubicles for the other Divisions. He was still wanting to just throttle someone and eyed Ronald coldly. The junior Reaper held up both his hands defensively and tried his best innocent look to avoid having the handle of his Managers scythe land on his head.

"Look, I'm real sorry bout your office! I had no idea he let it get that bad!"

The scythe was summoned and the hard handle came down with a loud crack. It was reflex after so many years.

"You are not excused Agent Knox. You had to have turned in paper work yesterday and noticed the state of things."

"Ow! Ow! Fine! But I was still recovering ya know! I wasn't gonna do overtime to help him out, it's his job and he screwed it up!"

Ronald whined and rubbed at the top of his head. His boss really was merciless! William held out his gloved hand and for a moment Ronald just stared at it warily.

"I'm waiting Mr. Knox. You are only here so that you can phase us to the human realm."

"Oh! Oh yeah..." Ronald said and took his hand, slightly ducking as he did so since Williams other hand moved upwards as he made his long death scythe disappear once more.

"Where to first? There are tons of places Grell Sempai could go to hang out..."

There were endless shops and cafes and pubs, even art museums and theaters were not out of the question. And the Season was still in high swing for yatching parties, picnics, horse races, garden parties, and grand balls. There were any number of distractions for Grell who always complained to be bored of the human realm but still interested enough to keep going back and giving each newly invented entertainment a try.

William adjusted his glasses and if his expression had been stony and cold before his gaze now would bury anyone.

"The gatehouse at Enfield."

"Wait, Enfield? But that's right near..."

"Yes, we are heading to the Phantomhive manor."

William informed him in no uncertain terms.

"Bloody demons again."

Was all Ronald grumbled as he gathered his energy for their departure. He had a feeling Williams foul mood was going to be put to good use there whether they found Grell or not.

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**Authors notes:**

I have no beta reader at the moment. I apologize for missing ownership apostrophes, excessive comma splices, oddly spelled words, beginning sentences with "But", " And", and other lazy words, missing and inconsistent capitalization, and not being able to shorten horribly boring explanations that probably don't need to be included but make the world a little easier to understand if you care about those sorts of little details. Also, it is summer and I spend a lot of time at my family cottage away from electricity so updates will be slow.

**Time line notes:**

I ran into a problem between historical dates and dates derived from the musical and manga. My own story is now AU. It begins in late August of 1889.

Kuroshitsuji musical 2 is set in 1888 because Ciel is born on Dec 14 1875 and he is said to be 13 yrs old during the musical. This is what slightly messes things up for me. The historical fact of when the actual Jack the Ripper murders take place is Nov 1888, white chapel, Londons east end, the close of ten weeks of the ripper murders with Mary Kelly the last victim found in her flat.

Grell was put on probation for several months for his involvement following the Jack the Ripper murders. The Campania incident in the manga in which he was fully reinstated and back to working with Ronald Knox as his junior took place April 17th. (In real life the HMS Campania did not sink until 1918 after she had been converted into an aircraft carrier during the first WW and went down during a storm.)

Also inconsistent with the musical the Crystal Palace did not burn down until 1939 when it was completely empty of people and the blaze started overnight in an office garbage can. There was never an historical event there that claimed the lives of 700 people as portrayed in the musical so I've somewhat disregarded that for my own story.

For the sake of continuity my time line looks like: Ripper murders, Grells probation, Sinking of the Campania, then the second musical with Eric and Allans story because Grell had to be a working reaper capable of solo missions during this time. There is picnicking and balls held during the musical that mean it must have taken place during the late spring and summer months during 'the season' or social season of the upper classes. Grell had a history with Sebastian in the musical and so it cannot have happened before the Ripper Murders when he played butler for Madame Red and first met him, it had to be set some time afterwards. For the purpose of this story the events of the musical take place in the early summer of 1889 instead of 1888.

thank-you for reading! ^^


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